Middle Managers

FIRST CAME the carnage, followed by the texting between friends. � Good win, Ohio State's James Laurinaitis thumbed to his West Coast buddy after USC's dismemberment of Virginia on Aug. 30. Way to go, man. Keep it up. � Nice shutout, replied the Trojans' Rey Maualuga, referring to the Buckeyes' 43--0 clubbing of Youngstown State that same day. Keep doing what you do best. � An innocuous exchange? Without question, Maualuga acknowledged last week as he was chauffeured in a golf cart back to Heritage Hall from an on-campus photo shoot. "But I may stir the pot a little next week." � No need, Rey. The pot will be on full boil by this Saturday, when the L.A. Coliseum hosts the most momentous nonconference game of the season. Top-ranked Southern Cal versus No. 5 Ohio State will be more than a riveting matchup of deep, talented and superbly (though differently) coached teams. It will provide a denouement to the drama that has consumed the republic since Chris Wells limped off in the third quarter against the Penguins: What's the deal with Beanie's right foot?

The game also stands to generate, on one sideline or the other, a torrent of second-guessing. Why didn't I just take the money? Each team is rich in seniors who put the NFL on hold for one more year of seasoning and another shot at a national championship ring.

Two of those returnees happen to be the finest middle linebackers in the country. Laurinaitis and Maualuga became friends last spring at the gathering of the Playboy preseason All-America team in Phoenix. They have plenty in common beyond their shared position, their mutual regard and all those vowels in their surnames. Both were projected as first-round picks before last April's NFL draft, and they have two of the more exotic pedigrees in college football. Laurinaitis is the son of Joe Laurinaitis, better known to devotees of pro wrestling as the Animal, one half of that groundbreaking tag team, the Road Warriors. Maualuga is the great-great-grandson of a Samoan chieftain.

In other ways the two are as different as, well, "Superstar" Billy Graham and Jimmy "Superfly" Snuka. Whereas the 6'3", 240-pound Laurinaitis arrived in Columbus as a student of the game who fixated on watching tape, Maualuga could not count the reading of defenses as one of his strong suits. But with his cheetahlike burst and power at the point of attack—"He blows people up," says one NFL scout—the 6'2", 260-pound Maualuga is the more naturally talented of the two. And the more flawed. Prone to misreads and blown assignments early in his career, he gained a reputation as a ball-chasing freelancer who, in his quest to make the highlight-show hit, could not always be bothered to fill his gap.

Under the mentorship of Ken Norton Jr., the former Pro Bowl linebacker who now coaches the position at USC, Maualuga "has become a much more disciplined player," says the scout, who requested anonymity. "Ken has taught him to read linemen and stay in his run fits [assigned gaps]."

The scout adds that Laurinaitis "is not as physically gifted, but a lot of [ NFL] teams may find him more desirable because of his ability to captain the defense, to make the right checks, to key and diagnose the play. He may not be as athletic or explosive [as Maualuga], but he's going to get there just as quickly because he just sees it and reacts. That's why he's so productive."

The different skill sets reflect, not surprisingly, the programs that produced them. Considering his quest to facilitate "peak experiences" for his players and his desire to use them "in ways that best express their ability" and "exhibit their true nature," it's little wonder that Trojans coach Pete Carroll made a place for Maualuga. So what if the linebacker has an independent streak (for kicks, he wore a pink thong over his shorts during a team workout in July) and had an early tendency to overrun as many ballcarriers as he brought down.

THAT CAREFREE approach would never fly at Ohio State, where the emphasis has long been on order, precision and consistency. The players are required to toe a line as straight as the part in coach Jim Tressel's neatly groomed hair. Defensive coordinator Jim Heacock emphasizes the reliability and intelligence of Laurinaitis, and is effusive about his discipline and preparation. In the Buckeyes' 2--0 start, including a 26--14 win over Ohio last Saturday, Laurinaitis had 14 tackles and an interception. "From Day One he knew what he wanted to do and got himself ready," says Heacock. "So when his time came to step in, there was no panic."

That is not to say that there was no shouting. "I was in Helsinki doing a tag-team event for the WWE," recalls the Animal. "I was getting ready for bed when the call came through from my wife." Julie Laurinaitis, home in Hamel, Minn., watching the 2005 Ohio State-- Michigan battle on TV, was screaming into the phone, "James is on the field. He's in the game!"

On the Wolverines' first play from scrimmage, strongside linebacker Bobby Carpenter went down with a broken right fibula, and onto the field trotted an 18-year-old freshman. Laurinaitis had played in the first 10 games—none, obviously, of this magnitude. Doing his best to block out the Big House crowd of 111,591, he settled down ever so slightly when weakside linebacker A.J. Hawk winked and smiled at him. "You're going to be fine," middle 'backer Anthony Schlegel assured him. "This is what you've been working for." Laurinaitis's only tackle came on the last play and helped preserve a 25--21 victory that secured for the Buckeyes the first of three straight Big Ten titles.